


Her Spell

by justwritingwords



Category: Harlots (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 05:17:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16612628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justwritingwords/pseuds/justwritingwords
Summary: Gone are all thoughts of curses, damnations and spells.  In their place, there is only a vivid blessing that finally touches you with such overwhelming strength that it has you grasping, clawing and clinging to her.





	Her Spell

 

_Let me break his spell._

 

There's not a single waver of uncertainty in her voice, no hint of a tremble amidst a misguided truth and there's not even a pitiful pause to lace her words with judgement.There is only kindness, which she weaves so deftly into her bold confidence that it's completely impossible to ignore or refute.It's a kindness that you can only aspire to recognise in its rarest form and the speed in which it fills her eyes with such startling honesty instils a new sense of fear in you.

 

A fear that she truly does believe she can break his spell.

 

Such naive simplicity strengthens her conviction, but you know, you _feel_ , the harrowing complexities that linger somewhere deep inside you, silently waiting to manifest themselves at any given opportunity.The only simplicity you can find is how accustomed you've become to it all.Somehow, receding into the background tapestries of the gentry has allowed you to adhere to your social duties without having to endure the judgemental expectations that go along with them.It's not necessarily easier, but it does at least avoid the embarrassment, the shame and the rejection that would surely come upon the discovery of your spoilt virtue.After all, no man would ever want to lay claim to something so tarnished. 

 

So why then, would a woman?

 

An experienced woman no less, who has both time and beauty winning in her favour to take her pick of anyone she wants.Yet here she sits, barely inches away from you, whispering compelling and convincing promises to you that you're desperate to believe.You almost do believe her, until you hear your bother's laughter somewhere between her words, reminding you of where you are and whom you're with.Perhaps, you're the only naive one here, foolishly allowing yourself to be deceived by a harlot.Yet, when you feel the rich softness of her lips press into yours gently, you feel anything but deceived.

 

You feel new again.

 

You feel young again.

 

You feel _clean_ again.

 

It barely lasts a few seconds, but it amounts to more tenderness than you've ever felt in your entire life, a secret that is instantly revealed by the single tear that's betraying you now.You're not sure what reaction you expect from her, perhaps laughter or mockery, maybe none at all, but what you don't expect is for the warmth of her touch to remain as affectionate once your lips part. 

 

Although her eyes are still soothingly sincere, they've since brightened in colours painted with an intimate fondness that suddenly makes it difficult not to shy away from.She holds your cheek a little firmer as if sensing that you're about to look away and brings her other hand up to your other cheek, her spell commanding you not to give in to the old one. 

 

So you don't.

 

You let her new one wash over you, cleansing you of all your damnation, safe in the knowledge that you're _choosing_ this particular spell.She's leaning in, so close that you can feel the weighty anticipation in her breath, but before you can feel her softness again, she pauses.The faintest hint of a frown slips over your brow because you know that you haven't misunderstood her intent, not as abundantly clear as it is.It's like she's waiting for something, something from you in return.

 

Something like money.

 

Your eyes finally fall to where your hands are clasped in your lap, ashamed to admit that you don't have any, your brother once more refusing you what is rightfully yours.It's there that you notice your nervous habit of twisting at one of your rings on your finger.It's an expensive ring for sure, probably worth more than all the money that your brother would give you anyway.You slide it gently off your finger, placing it carefully into her lap before gathering enough courage to lift your head and retain whatever dignity you have left.

 

You shall not be accused of not being able to pay your way.

 

"What is this for?"

 

Whilst her tone is still brimming with the serene warmth that she's shown you all night, it's now got a decisively firmer edge to it, which feels harsher in her heavy accent than is probably intended.It's enough to throw you for the briefest of moments, dropping your head in shame at how unpractised you are with the required etiquette that such a meeting demands. 

 

And why should you be practised at _this_?

 

This just isn't what good ladies from upstanding family names should even know about, never mind be practised in and more so at the hands of a common courtesan.A solitary shudder slithers painfully up your spine at the damning scandal that could be born from tonight's decisions, fancies, and desires _._ It only begins to thaw under the fire that burns across your cheeks when you realise just how tempting those acute desires are.You hear the whisper of her nasally sigh, one probably conceived out of pure frustration and you have no more doubts now that this is impossible, _you're impossible_. 

 

Turning away with the sole aim to collect enough composure to walk out, you're promptly stoppedwhen she draws in both of your hands to her.Her touch, so soft but prominent, hinders all chances of being able to run away, while her cautious gaze is both comforting and encouraging in reason to stay.With attentive movements, she slips the ring back into place on your finger, telling you that this isn't what this is about. 

 

Something flutters awake somewhere deep inside your chest when her eyes dip to make a study of your lips and when she starts to slowly lean in closer, you feel it spreading outwards, filling every breath you take.The purposeful anticipation of it all has you certain that this is the exact moment where everything will begin and end for you, except she denies you a taste of her lips again by stopping short of kissing you.Instead of embarrassment this time though, you feel impatience swelling in the tide of your breathlessness, as it tumbles in waves over the rocks that cement your confusion as to what her true intent really is.Clearly, payment is not what she's seeking, but this is all too foreign for you to even guess at what else she could want from you, so you let your inexperience speak rather harshly for you.

 

"For you to kiss me."

 

Her answer is quick, as too are her eyes, which flicker upwards with such distinctive intensity that it frightens you a little to see it focused on you.A stutter is already tying your tongue in a knot, one that tightens with every passing second the more your shyness pulls at the rope.Her hands reach up soothingly though to your cheeks, easing out the hesitation that has you in its strong chokehold before her lips replace her hands.Your eyes slide shut at the warmth it pursues and incites a whispered gasp from you that gets lost somewhere between the sound of her breathing and the sound of her trailing tender kisses across your cheek.She pulls away slowly, her eyes finding ardent purpose with yours once again, until she dips her head, carefully bestowing the same tender affection to your cheek. 

 

Perhaps it's because of the earnest care she's taking in supplying every inch of skin she can find with heated excitement that has you pressing tentative kisses to her cheek in return.Then again, maybe it's her skilful fingers starting to trace light lines along the length of your neck and up over your jaw that finally encourages you closer towards her mouth.You can feel the unsteady skipping that begins to burden your breathing with every slow but pivotal patten she draws your mouth into.You can even hear your fresh gasp, which pleads for freedom when she pulls down suddenly yet lightly against your bottom lip, prolonging the new sensation with intriguing fervour.

 

It's like a dance that you can recall the name of, but know none of the steps to, having never had the chance to master any of them properly.Slowly though, you feel a growing confidence in the rhythm of it all the more her lips pass over yours.You almost think that you've perfected the grace of it until she spins you completely out of time with a subtle lick of her tongue against your mouth. 

 

You don't think you've ever experienced falling in quite the same way before.Down you go into an uncharted world that blurs itself into wild colours and captivating choruses.Hitting the bottom is surely going to hurt and just as you pull back from her, awaiting that inevitable pain, she's there to soften the landing with her gentle gaze.The intensity of it is still as vivid as it was moments ago, yet there's now a hint of something more that darkens her pupils, something that you're too distracted to put a name to.

 

"Should I stop?" she whispers, as she slowly trails her nose along the length of yours, before twirling it in a tight circle to return down the same path.

 

Of all the things you are thinking right now, stopping isn't one of them.Not even the threat of public disgrace is discouraging you from wanting to stop right now and perhaps it should.The ruin that this could bring should be far bigger than you, her and this moment all put together, except it feels anything but.It feels like this is the only honest moment you've had in your entire life and it really doesn't matter if she's putting on her harlot pretence with you for the sake of tonight.You'll take it if only to feel alive for the first time.

 

So no, you don't want to stop.

 

Her forehead rests against yours with a comforting smile adorning her mouth and you just wish that it would begin orchestrating those alluring kisses once more, except she's waiting for you to answer her before she does.It takes everything that you have to stop the tears from forming at the magnitude of what her patience actually means.

 

You have a choice.

 

You _actually_ have a choice.

 

It's utterly overwhelming, so much so, that it mercilessly strips what is left of your voice and no matter how much you will them to come, words simply fail you.It's impossible now to prevent at least one tear from slipping underneath your eyelid, because you have so much to say, yet you don't know how.It startles you when she pulls away, mistaking it for the wrong answer, as unsure as you are of everything else, you're certain that you need to feel her kisses again.

 

So you rush forward, clumsily bumping your nose into hers with nervous but desperate lips slightly missing their mark.It's far from elegant, even verging on messy, but you trust her to guide you back into the gentle rhythm she showed you before.It takes just a second to find it, except it's firmer in contrast to your other kisses and faster in the speed in which she moves her mouth over yours. 

 

No, you most definitely don't want to stop.

 

Not now you have a taste of this, of her.So you follow every intricate design she draws with her mouth across yours, every slow tug, every fast surge, memorising each one so that you might replay them on her.It's in this that a flourish of confidence spikes inside of you, feeding your fingertips with a sudden boldness that lets you reach out and touch her face, her neck, her jaw. 

 

A new fire ignites low in your stomach when you hear the tantalising sound of her broken sigh and it only stokes your bravery further to evoke another.It's with every intention that you try, except surprisingly, it's not her sigh you hear, but your own when you feel the unmistakable touch of her tongue again.Panic rapidly turns into intrigue and daring impulses fight to take over, as you let her press closer and gently arch your head back to welcome a second meeting of her tongue.

 

Then a third and a fourth, until you lose count completely.

 

Never can you have imagined that kissing could feel so pleasurable, so passionate, so _enthralling_.With the end of one kiss, you eagerly wait for a new one to fuel your impatient addiction and the more she's willing to give, the more you end up wanting.So much so that you're left chasing after her when she suddenly starts to pull away, scared that you'll be denied another taste.Belief steels you that you've learnt the steps to this dance to be able to spin her out of sync with a sure swipe of your own tongue.If you've startled her she doesn't show it, but rather goads you into doing it again and you seize her invitation enthusiastically between your lips.

 

Her movements seem to suddenly explode in front of you in an array of fast and skilful hands.All at once, you feel her everywhere, at your neck, shoulders, waist, stomach, before the heat of her touch scorches the skin of your chest.Her kisses become longer and deeper with a revived urgency driving them into a faster frenzy.Rapture echoes loudly in your laboured breathing, humming appraisal with every heavy exhale. 

 

You can taste nothing but her.Even during those aching seconds when her lips have parted from yours, reading themselves with a new angle, your entire mouth swims in the glorious sweetness she's left behind.It's such a compelling flavour that you're certain there is no other that could satisfy your newfound hunger. 

 

Fingers skim the length of your dress, rolling over every inch of you until they find the modest hem.By all accounts, you should be jumping away in shock when she slowly starts to lift it, but maybe it's the steel in her kisses that helps put aside the offence to let her hand slide higher up your leg.Your nervous trembles are impossible to hide anymore, especially when she swirls her fingers in a lazy circle before continuing their climb upwards. 

 

Gone are all thoughts of curses, damnations and spells.In their place, there is only a vivid blessing that finally touches you with such overwhelming strength that it has you grasping, clawing and clinging to her.So many sensations detonate within you, ripping right through without warning that it becomes difficult to separate them.One thing you are certain about though, is that you enjoy every single one of them. 

 

Just when you think you've memorised every teasing twirl, every eager push and every gentle stroke, she ignites your surprise with a totally new but equally pleasing caress.As unfathomable as it might be, you can feel your otherwise uncompromising seams start to come apart with ease, as she expertly unpicks the tight thread that holds your virtue together.Time ceases to be relevant the moment that the last delicate thread finally gives way under her careful strain.You feel it snap completely under your tensing stomach muscles right down to your calves, letting the elating tremors leave their lustful mark between your legs.The heat of her mouth merges with the fire that presses her fingers, burning every inch of you, inside and out.

 

Despite still being fully clothed, you feel incredibly naked the moment she takes one last tug at your bottom lip to lean backwards, for under her wanton gaze there's not a single possibility to hide.She doesn't let you, even as your eyes start to lower of their own shy accord once the intimacy of the moment starts to find calmer waters.Her hand, _that_ hand, lures you back with a simple but effective stroke that's full of promise and assurance.A fresh tremble breaks you, threatening to undo you once more.

 

And, most surprisingly of all perhaps, you will it to.

 

You silently will her to readily guide you back to those yielding fires, the ones that are sure to burn with pleasure and scar with want.Words are no longer necessary it would seem, not since her hand is already familiar with the path it's returning back to.The expectation feels stronger this time and the wait more achingly tedious now that you have a keener knowledge of the blissful destination.It's the distant clatter from outside the room that brutally knocks you off the road and pulls harshly at the reins.Your hand clamps tightly around hers beneath your dress, reluctantly pleading for her to still her enticing motions, while your eyes stare with fright at the door in anticipation of the inevitable intrusion.

 

"Be well," she whispers thickly in your ear, "ain't no one going to disturb us here."

 

She's incredibly convincing in her certainty, too much even, as her hand continues its intentional journey with utter disregard for what may be happening outside the room.Perhaps she's right to be, maybe it is a golden rule for houses such as this to never question but to ignore everything since it is probably nothing to worry about.Except, how would you know?Your fear most definitely doesn't, as it rises unsteadily within you, pleading with you to listen to its reason and flee before your reputation is singed by the very fire you wish upon yourself.

 

"All the same," you breathe out amidst the streak of panic, "I should feel better behind a lock and key."

 

It takes all but a moment for her hand to regretfully retreat, along with the warmth she had cocooned you in.Suddenly, you feel acutely aware of how clearly your vulnerability is showing right now.You see it in your ruffled dress, you feel it on your swollen lips, and hear it in your strained breathing.It's clear as day, with no hopes of trying to summon the strength to hide any of it, no matter what rules of discretion might be observed here.

 

"To my rooms then."

 

Surprise colours your cheeks with a hint of redness at her bold suggestion, which only deepens in shade when she gracefully stands before you with her hand stretched out so that you might take it.Then again, maybe it's a little late for that kind of demure shyness, considering you can now feel the slick results of her spell breaking once you do take her hand.Yet, as embarrassed as society would expect, you're fiercely proud of it, emboldened by it even. 

 

So yes, "to your rooms then."

 

A pleased and, if not slightly, coy smile lifts at the edges of her mouth while her eyes, rich with promise, beckon you to follow her.And follow her you do.All the way out of the room, away from the heat of the fireplace, straight upstairs to a different kind of heat, one that is gradually becoming more familiar with every passing touch and kiss.Only when you hear the serrating sound of the metal key against the lock do you fully commit yourself to its inviting flames. 

 

And commit you do.

 

She makes it easier of course, for she is gentle where he was not and so succeeds in really touching you where he could not.You still can't put a name to all the sensations she's making you feel, yet in the slowest and most tender moments, you glimpse the title of a few.Care is vowed with every sweep of her mouth against yours, made clearer and louder with every hushed sigh.Trust dresses you where your clothing is delicately removed, piece by piece and desire is poured into every inch of newly revealed skin by nimble fingers.Above all though, you embrace the safety she provides you, for at no other moment in your life can you ever recall feeling so safe in someone else's hands.

 

She does things to you that you never imagined were possible, kisses you in places you never dreamed of and takes you to a higher appreciation of yourself than you dared realise.If she hadn't already broken your brother's spell downstairs, then she most definitely bewitches you here on her bed, as she sucks every drop of his poison from your body until there's no more to be taken.You lay amongst her sheets, rapturous and spent, your mind spinning with all manners of wild and euphoric thoughts, trying your hardest to commit all of them to memory. 

 

Just when you think there couldn't possibly be anything else left to experience, her mouth descends with articulate purpose upon your own, feeding you a taste of yourself.Nothing quite prepares you for the sudden sweetness that fills your palate, part her, part you, in a wonderfully exquisite delicacy that becomes evermore addictive with every long sweep on her tongue.It's a craving that you don't think you'll ever appease, for the more she gives, the more you want.

 

Little by little, the urgency is exhausted, letting everything turn slower, longer and calmer to bring you back full circle to tonight's glorious beginning.New shivers, born from the coldness of the room, begin to replace the heated ones kindled by her knowing touches, whilst your breathing finally finds an island of steadiness amidst surging tides.Beaching against its exposed shores, you suddenly feel incredibly self-conscious, as though you are baring much more than just your body.In many ways, you are, for no one, not even your brother, has ever seen or heard you like this before.Yet, unlike him, she isn't revelling in superior pride at what she's done, instead, there's the most earnest look of pure awe staring back at you, one that never sways in its certainty. 

 

And this too, is strikingly new.

 

Never have you been the recipient of such formidable admiration before.It unnerves you a little, betraying your inexperience further by not knowing how to react to it and despite the low amber glow of the flickering candlelight, you're positive that she sees it.Like everything tonight, she simply guides you through the dazzling waltz, whispering complimentary encouragements that make you flush furiously but end up beckoning you forward for more. 

 

Desperation bleeds through your desire to repeat them back to her, to reach out and touch her like she has you, to make her fall back against the sheets in blissful elation.Her smile coaxes more of your stumbled offerings and the way she shimmies free of her stays spurs you on with cautious explorations.Hesitation shakes your resolve at the last given moment though, flustering you into quietly admitting that you don't know what to do.Sympathy runs deep within her trustful smile, edging your hands closer to the hem of the final piece of clothing she's wearing and with a supportive nod of her head, she leads you in removing it completely. 

 

In a single instance, you're rendered mute, fixed in a perpetual state of wonderment that not only makes a prisoner out of your gaze but your heart as well.For whilst you recognise the most basic curves that you share with her, there are so many more that grace her body that has never embellished yours.Each one is lovelier than the last and with an unyielding impatience brewing at your fingertips, you can't help but reach out to trace your appreciation over them. 

 

Just like cold champagne fizzing its way quickly to the top of the glass, there's a frenzy of temptation bubbling its way to your surface, threatening to overflow before you've had a chance to savour any of it.Tipping forward, you hastily try to catch her lips once more, if only to give yourself a known compass bearing amidst this uncharted territory, except she seems more content on working her mouth down your neck and across your chest.Slowly, you fall back against the pillows again, totally smitten with the gloriously inviting distraction she emits over you.

 

There's simply nothing else you can do but give in, letting her impressive will consume you for a third time this evening.She is positively everywhere on you now and as you hold her gaze through the relishing tremors, you're more than convinced that there is no other person that could ever awaken your body like she can.You never really expected _anyone_ to be able to accomplish it, yet in the sluggish warmth of your heightened climax, you can't imagine allowing anyone else but her to try.

 

You only ever want to know this, know _her_.

 

Oh and how you want to know her.Frantic desires painted red with hunger begin to betray your gracious propriety, desperate to swallow each and every soft sound that dares to spill from her mouth and even keener to devour her, so that she too, might tremble at your diligent hands.Only your touch is a hesitant one, ghosting over skin that seems to leave a trail of cold nervousness instead of the fiery arousal she had conjured in you.Proof of it comes in a long wave of shivers that pull and pinch at her entire body and just as you're about to retreat in defeat, she claims your hand in hers, guiding it lower across herself.

 

A new impassioned intimacy takes hold of you, rooting itself deep at the edge of where your fingers can reach and the heat of it all spreads far too quickly, burning in delight with every careful stroke she urges from you.Like a mesmerising Greek siren, she coaxes you closer to her shores, twisting and rolling every part of her bewitching body with a captivating slowness that claws mercilessly at your resolve.Not even the clumsiness that undoubtedly embodies the very tips of your fingers can sway you off course, because she's here, steering you clear of any shyness that threatens to shipwreck you where you lay.Her hypnotic call whispers passionately in your ear, seducing you with simple encouragements that are wrapped up in sensual sentiment and only broken with sighs of elation.

 

With one long, drawn out cry she has the entire scales tipping over, spilling the true weight and significance of this exact moment over you.There's simply no mistaking the vivid sincerity in her eyes, stripped just as naked as the rest of her and the notion finally dawns on you that this isn't just about righting past wrongs for you anymore, but for _her_ too.You feel the strength of it in the way that she anchors to you, clawing frantically at your back amidst the final surge that promises to sweep her away at any given moment.You hold fast though, tenderly kissing away any doubts she might have that this can't be real for her too.

 

Exhaustion grips her, shaking her until she collapses into you where you're waiting to gather her up in your arms.You offer soothing tones into her ear, mindful of how pleasant they sounded when she volunteered them to your ear merely a few moments ago.You feel the wondrous pressure of her heaving chest press against yours, as she takes her time to find the steadiness in her breathing again. 

 

Gravity pulls you back to where all this began, although your lips move with more assurance now over hers, keen to show all that you've learnt tonight and your appreciation for her kindness.You even manage to surprise her when you tug down on her bottom lip, evoking a breathy hum that you happily accept as reward.Somehow, you instinctively know that words of gratitude don't have a place in this moment, at least not yet, so you try your best to pour all of it into your kisses. 

 

Everything begins to slow of its own accord as sleep drifts in upon the draft that filters into the room.Kisses, although still warm, no longer scorch and inflame your lips.Touches no longer seek a higher and bolder aspiration, but instead, offer fond affection born from a trusting understanding of each other.Only your gazes remain unchanged, still locked in their obsession for one another, as though both of you are afraid the other might disappear should either of you look away. 

 

Gentleness surrounds you, warding off the coldness that preys upon you, yet you still shiver when she carefully sweeps away some of your hair from your face.Of all the things you could startle her with, you didn't expect that to be one of them, but she's shifting hastily in order to bring the heavy covers down over your body, pressing her own as close as she can possibly get without crushing you. 

 

"The fire's usually lit by now," she whispers, "I'm sorry."

 

A knowing smile slowly lifts at the edges of your mouth, acutely aware of how a different fire entirely has been lit tonight and even now, you can still feel the flames licking at your heart that is sure to keep you warm until morning.It's probably a little presumptuous of you to assume that you'll be allowed to stay, after all, conventions of a place like this should surely be seeing you out of the door by now or else expecting the sound of more coins dropping to the table.Yet, no one has come searching for her, no one is knocking at the door reminding you of how much time has elapsed and she herself, doesn't look motivated in the slightest to see you out, instead, she's offering to find more blankets for you.

 

Mistaking your silence, she already makes a start to climb out of the warmth you've created beneath what covers you do have and you have to react quickly, pulling gently at her arm, to stop her from leaving altogether.Right now, there is nothing else you need apart from her if only to have her hold you or to kiss your lips once more.You don't really know how to ask for that or whether you should.The words simply aren't in your vocabulary, having never been taught this type of compassionate affection before, but like everything else tonight, she leads the way, somehow instinctively knowing what you want.So into her arms, you fall, willingly and earnestly sinking into them with not a single care that you might drown in the abiding endearment that they flood you with.

 

Contentment of the highest perfection begins to settle with a comforting satisfaction in your lethargic muscles.It lulls you gently to where sleep is waiting for you, welcoming you with a joyous smile and a full heart.Somewhere, in between the shadows of your drowsiness, you think you hear her hushed voice murmur something to you.It could be anything or nothing at all, but you carry it with you into your dreams all the same.There, it manifests itself into heartfelt gratitude that explodes amongst a magnificent backdrop of fireworks, where beautiful fragments rain down upon you, showering you with vivid memories and vibrant echoes of everything that's happened tonight, every kiss, every sigh, every _touch_. 

 

And all of them lead back to her.

 

Her very image is knotted so tightly in your mind's eye that she's all you can think about and even when morning comes to ease you awake, you feel the tethers begin to strain in their desperation to see her in the flesh again.Crimson flushes your cheeks when you realise just how precise that particular wish is, as you find yourself still tucked carefully into her arms and pressed firmly against her naked body.Burnt cinders from the glorious heat of last night still smoulder pleasingly at the pit of your stomach in such a way that it makes you ache to ignite them again and your entire body twitches at the mere thought of it, so much so that you jolt her from her sleep.All it takes is for her eyes to fall upon you, glistening with the remnants of sleep, for its fire to consume you once more.

 

Persistent desperation returns stronger than ever, pulsating through your blood with a persuasive need to relive the events of last night, whilst the unyielding ache, that has grown impatient since her last touch, reminds you that you won't be able to leave until you experience it again.The stark realisation that in a short while all of this will be gone is more than enough to spur you on, pushing you forward to kiss her lips.Little trembles still spill unashamedly from your fingers, as you gently caress whatever skin you can find, except unlike before, it's not out of fear of touching her but out of sadness that this could be the last time.

 

There are no grand illusions to blind you with, no demanding expectations to clothe you in disappointment and no ambitious promises made to burden you with guilt.You may be a lot of things but you are no fool, you know that all of this will and must end the moment you step over the threshold.So, as hasty as you might feel, you purposefully keep your touches slow in order to savour as many shivers, gasps and sighs as you can.You think, on some level, she understands or at the very least sympathises, because she gifts them to you with a raw intensity that rivals even last night's. 

 

And later, when you bashfully confess that you're unable to dress yourself, having lived a lifetime of ladies maids and doting servants, she's there to reverse the tender ministrations that helped to remove your clothes in the first place.As careful and gentle as she still is, there's something strangely subdued in the way that she lets her lips graze longingly across your skin before it's covered up, almost as though she's not just dressing you in all your finery, but in golden shawls of her reverence too.Pride swells inside your chest, fighting off any damning delusion that might still whisper that you are not worthy of it.Last night certainly changed that for you, with this morning cementing that notion in stone, all thanks to the magnificence kneeing before you now. 

 

Burning alive in her eyes is the same question that pulls at your heart, except neither of you dares speak it aloud for fear of the answer because no, this probably shouldn't feel this close to love as it does.Yet, when she climbs to her feet without letting go of your hand or breaking eye contact, you find yourself immersed in a beckoning world of what ifs and maybes.Glorious shapes of an unattainable life trick you into believing that this could be real, that, despite your will, an impossible promise is being made between the both of you that commits to something more, something akin to the very thing that is strictly forbidden between two women; love. 

 

It's amplified beyond all reasoning when she pulls you back in the middle of the hallway for one last kiss, promptly replacing the impossible with newfound potential, feeding the promise to you that this doesn't have to be the end but rather a beautiful beginning.The resonating impression that this new dawn leaves on you is nothing short of overwhelming because you feel the enormity of its significance keenly as you stand in the doorway with far more freedom than you had yesterday. 

 

You might indeed be returning to the prison of your brother's cruelty, but you do so with your shackles broken and your heart mended.For there is no spell anymore that can command you, except for the one that you freely choose, and as your fingers graze across her hand one last time before you depart, you know that you'll always choose hers.


End file.
